The Difference between Rage Demons and Fury Warriors
by CP Nightshade-Eyes of Asteria
Summary: "The release of atomic energy has not created a new problem. It has merely made more urgent the necessity of solving an existing one." Cia is a warrior, but a warrior in Azeroth is not the same as one in Thedas. Her rage is considered dangerous to most, but will she conquer or fall? Or will Hawke and her friends help her achieve what she needs?


**This is my first WoW or Dragon Age fanfic. So, to make it better, it's now all in one. R&R.**

Being sucked through some sort of sha-infused portal by Garrosh Hellscream, hopefully the now former Warchief of the Horde if her companions succeeded, and being dumped on some Titan-forsaken roof top was not first on Cia's to do list.

Sprawled out on her back, she let out a huff as she breathed through her plate facemask. The dark Titan-forged armor still firmly attached to her throbbing body. Rolling onto her side, Cia saw that her weapons were next to her on the flat roof. Her hammer, which was from Ulduar, still glowed slightly with pulsing blue power as Titan energy kept the pieces floating the exact same length apart. Next to her hammer were two identical blades that seemed to shine because of the silver hue they had, that is, if you looked past the bloody red glow that surrounded both of them. Cia smiled slightly, her twin Demonslayers as well as the Hammer of Crushing Whispers always brought her some comfort.

Bringing herself to sit up, Cia first inspected her armor. The dark metal of the Titanforged plate was virtually unscratched, but a few dents would have to be repaired. Her guild tabard was still intact, enchantments preventing it from being permanently damaged. Grief washed over her as she realized that she had been separated from the rest of her Guild family. She fingered the black cloth with her gauntleted hand, wishing she could see black banner with the flaming white sword once again in her guild hall back in Stormwind, to once again sit with her co-leaders as they debated trivial matters of repair bills and officer privileges, and to see her sister, Bella, laughing alongside her husband Ren as her twin nieces played in the hall garden.

Sighing, Cia decided to finally take in her surroundings. First of all, she was in fact on a roof, second, she was in some sort of city she had never been to, which was odd considering she had been everywhere on both Azeroth and Outlands. Below her was a small courtyard that was surrounded by large buildings and a staircase leading towards an even larger building. Few people milled around the courtyard, despite what Cia could only guessed was early morning if the slight chill in the air and the sun peeking out over the horizon were any indication.

Spread out around her large rooftop was a surprisingly large city. It was built like a small mountain with the large keep she saw earlier being the peak. She seemed to be in the upper districts, and most likely the wealthiest part of town. The lower district reminded Cia of some of the older parts in Old Town-with run down building and obvious criminal organizations mulling about.

Settling down again, Cia looked around shortly for her pack, finding it right next to her weapons. Opening it, she rummaged inside for a small time before pulling out a small section of bread and a flask of wine. Putting down her food and drink, Cia reached up around her neck and unclasped the facemask from the rest of her armor and slid it off her head. When it was off, she shook her head, letting loose the black locks that were tucked away inside the faceguard. Pulling her pack and weapons, she arranged them so that she could sit back against the pack yet keep her weapons ready to draw.

She leaned back, eating her food in comfort that could only come from excessive wear of her armor. She knew exactly how to sit so her pauldrens didn't bother her, mainly after having to sleep with her armor on in the war campaigns against the horde or when laying siege to places like Icecrown Citadel. Feeling an unknown exhaustion come over her, Cia found it hard to keep her lids from covering her icy blue eyes. At last, sleep overcame her, and then, so did dreams.

_A child's laughter filled the muggy air of a weekend afternoon, Cia was with her family outside the guildhall enjoying the fair weather of a Stormwind spring. Her nieces, Mia and Lillian, were playing out front near the medium expanse of open that the guild hall shared with the SI:7 headquarters as a practice area. The field was empty today due to the celebration of the recent defeat of the Lich King Arthas Menethil._

_ Mia and Lillian were playing soldier with each other, and Cia, Bella, and Ren all sat by the entrance, sharing in a bottle of the kings finest. Cia stood, saying her farewell to the couple, and went inside to talk with her other two co-leaders of the guild Vindication. Entering the hall, she breathed in the strong scent of burning wood and honeysuckle that radiated throughout the whole building. The entryway was lined with the alternating pattern of torches and the familiar guild banners. The entryway then emptied out into what was a fairly lavish and large living quarter._

_ Surrounding a fire pit in the middle of the room was multiple sets of chairs, tables, and a new idea being brought about called couches, which were like two or three chairs interlocked, without arm rests in between. The ceiling above opened up into the second floor, a chandelier hanging centered in the railed expanse. A few people were in the area, sitting and talking, the veterans and officers sharing stories from the recent excursion to Northrend and the defeat of the Lick King, as well as some stories from the halls of Ulduar._

_ Cia smiled slightly, going off to the right towards the meeting room. She was happy that most of them didn't know all the details, mainly about the fight against Yogg-Saron, an Old God at the depths of Ulduar where Cia found her new mace, the Hammer of Crushing Whispers. The name was fitting because of who held it before her. Currently, her weapons and armor were locked away in the basement with most of the others' equipment. She remembered facing the Old God with her guild members, and most importantly, she remembered those she lost. Sort of made the titles Godkiller, Astral Walker, and Starcaller ring with a hollow tone._

_ Thror Lighthammer, a dwarven paladin that succumbed to the insanity of the old god. Edelrin Nightwhisper, a night elf huntress who was slain by Algalon the Observer, the titan construct sent to decide whether Azeroth would be remade or not. Mikael Loris, a human mage; Caffy, the spontaneous gnome rogue; and many more who died during the assault. But most importantly, she lost Luther, otherwise known as her husband, the love of her life, and a very skilled warrior; him preferring to use the sword and board approach compared to her dual wielding fury skills._

_ Her heart ached at the memory, the way his lips would turn at the edge when he was suppressing a grin at one of Cia's many blunders. How they could always read each other whether in battle or across the dinner table, how he would always be ready to command their followers and how she would inspire her comrades, making them strike harder and faster. When he was killed, Cia remembered watching Edelrin shoot an arrow through his heart so he would be relieved from his insanity. Even now, three months later, she had yet to say a word, and she didn't plan on speaking again anytime soon. _

_She felt a small amount of pressure in the corner in her eyes, and quickly wiped away the small tears threatening to leave a wet trail down her cheeks. Passing the stairway leading to the upper floors and sleeping quarters for the higher ranking officers, she stopped at the door on her right and pushed it open. She was greeted with the familiar circular table used for guild meetings, the line of banners and torches similar to the entryway of the guild hall. About two thirds of guild "council" was in attendance so far. So far Cia was the only co-leader, while she had five officers to deal with as she waited for Kronuu, a Dranei shaman, and Dilina, a night elf druidess, her two fellow co-leaders. Sitting around the table, Cia watched in amusement as some of the younger officers teased each other playfully._

_ Sebastian Williams, the guild alchemist and resident mage, was messing with the nearby dwarf hunter and local blacksmith, Donin Brewfire's, beard: changing its color from dark red to bright pink with a flick of his wrist, while Donin shot miniature paper zeppelins at him. Caroline Lessail, the human rogue and scribe, was currently playing keep away with twin, Alexander Lessail. Alex was the guild first aid expert, and most likely one of the meanest paladins out there. They were tossing a gnomish gear above poor Sav Cogmender's head. Sav was trying to get it back, levitating himself with his priestly abilities as he tried futilely to retrieve it from the arc at which Alex and Caroline were throwing the cog._

_ The room quieted quickly for obvious reasons, as the door had slammed open revealing an arguing shaman and druidess as they entered the room._

_ "I don't care what you think, Kronuu," came the light yet stern voice of Dilina. "The Cenarion Circle and the druid orders are by far more in tune with nature than the Earthen Ring and their shamans."_

_ "Yet who can summon the very elements to their aids?" countered Kronuu, his Dranei accent strong and his voice was steely._

_ "And who can shapeshift into wild creatures? Call upon nature herself to aid us?" It was fairly easy to see where this was going, so Cia intervened._

_ Picking two small copper coins from her coin purse laced on the belt around her hip, Cia threw them both at the arguing duo hitting them both squarely in the side of the head. Both of their hands went up to their temples, wincing. They both looked at Cia apologetically and went to their seats._

_ Pulling out an envelope from her belt pouch, Dilina began the official meeting, "Ok everyone, to start off today's meeting we'll be discussing the necessary amount of gold the guild can provide for repairs on armor. Anyone have any ideas?" People responded their ideas, but Cia was noticing how they all seemed to sound farther away than they should. Confused, Cia started to rise, only to be snapped out of the dream by freezing cold._

Sitting straight up, Cia gasped for air and shook her head, trying to rid her hair of the frigid water. Steadying her breath, Cia tried to clear the water out of her eyes only to find her hands bound by thick leather. Improvising, she used the small amount of cloth lining from under her glove to clear her vision. When she looked around, she noticed that a simple steel sword was pointed at her throat. As she followed the blade upward, she saw the owner seemed to be a guard, if the matching orange and grey uniforms of the two men behind him were anything to take note of. Cia also noticed the frightened looking woman in a very colorful dress staring at her.

"By order of the Kirkwall Guard, you are under arrest for trespassing," said one of the guards behind the one holding her at sword point.

_ Shit,_ was all Cia could think. This was not a comfortable situation to be in, so Cia did the obvious thing: she looked for a way out. She flicked her eyes around, noticing her weapons, backpack, and faceguard were in between the guard who spoke and the guard holding his weapon out. Realizing this was the only advantage she had, besides the fact that the guards didn't know anything about the way she fought. Taking a deep breath, she launched into her very much on the fly plan.

Rolling under the sword and into the nearest guard's legs, Cia quickly tripped him. Once he was on the ground, Cia easily grappled the weapon out of his shocked hands, she stood up and masterfully held the sword in reverse before sliding it through her leather bindings. This happened quickly enough for Cia to be able to send a hard kick to the fallen guards head, effectively knocking him unconscious before the other two guards drew their swords. Readying her newly acquired sword in both hands, she observed the last two opponents.

She barely noticed the woman scream and run off as the guards split off, one going to each side hoping for an open flank to attack. The one who opted to take her left side charged at her, sword raised high. Readying herself, Cia shifted the sword into her left hand and swiftly parried the guards powerful swing, sending him stumbling off balance. Closing her right hand, she brought it up in a powerful upper cut. The current guard now out for the count, Cia shifted her attention to the second guard, who had closed the gap between them while her back was turned.

Rolling to the side, Cia dodged the swift strike meant for the back of her head. Luckily for her, she rolled right next to her weapons; unluckily for her the guard was already attacking her gain, allowing her no time to exchange her weapons. Deciding she needed a distraction, she quickly through the sword in her hands at the guard. Only being five feet away, he couldn't dodge to blade as it went pommel first into his shoulder. Dazed and disarmed, the guard didn't stand a chance against the now adequately armed warrior bringing the pommels of both her swords down on the sides his head.

Hearing a woman screaming for guards down below, and the shouting of both men and woman accompanied by the telltale sign of steel boots along cobblestone streets, Cia could only groan as more guards seemed to be approaching the house. She quickly picked up her hammer and clipped it into place before throwing the pack over her shoulders and then clipping her faceguard into place. Running over to the edge of the house, she quickly took in the flood of guards coming into the house. Mind whirling, she came up with another plan, albeit it was probably more insane and stupid than her last one.

Regarding the guards that came to the rooftop from over her shoulder at her spot near the edge of the roof, Cia also took in the three guards who were guarding the entrance on the street. The guards who had come up to the roof, about sixteen in all, started to form a loose ring around her. She heard the lead guard of the squad shout out another pointless command, "Halt in the name of the Viscount!"

Not caring who this Viscount was, Cia shot him a withering look from over her shoulder. Remembering her plan, she took a slight step backwards, and noticed how the all of the guards tensed in preparation. She made a small smile, enjoying the mix a fear and wariness coming from the guards behind her. She then took a second, bringing her weapons centered, and breathed. She inhaled all the fury she held within as she closed her eyes. The anger at her situation, her terrible luck, and the burning rage she felt most of her life settled in her chest, giving her an odd sense of focus. When she exhaled, she opened her eyes that were now tinged with red around her normally pale blue irises. And without any prompt or warning about her next move she took a step forward, raised her weapons, and jumped.

For a whole second that could stretch for centuries, Cia felt suspended in the air. She heard the shouts of alarm from the guards behind her and she saw the stunned looks of the trio of guards below. She smiled wider this time, and as she smiled, her descent began.

Bracing her legs as the wind whipped her black hair behind her; she raised her arms up preparing to deliver as much force into the ground as possible. With a loud _crunch_, the cobblestone cracked beneath her as she slammed her feet and the hilts of her weapons into the ground. The shockwave released from the impact seemed to take on a reddish hue as it made the three guards around her landing area fly backwards.

Rising from her landing position, Cia quickly took in the stunned faces of citizens and even two guards. Deciding to flee before more conflict arose; Cia took off through the nearest archway and sprinted downhill, hoping to find the exit to this city.

ϟϟϟ

Hawke was having what she wished was a nice day off. She, Varric, and Isabella were all sharing drinks in the Hanged Man. Hawke still had her smugglers uniform from working with Athenril on. She found it more comfortable than any mage robes, preferring the flexibility and maneuverability to the unwieldy robes. Her bladed staff was strapped onto her back as she downed another ale and laughed at the ridiculous story Varric was telling about how he wrestled an ogre to the ground with nothing but his bare hands.

Hawke had to admit, the afternoon did start off great, but when the Guard Captain Avelline rushed in to the Hanged Man, Hawke knew her good mood would have to go away for a while. "Hawke!" the stern voice of Avelline made Hawke want to cringe.

Turning herself around on her bar stool, Hawke gave the Captain an exasperated look. "What did I do this time Avelline?" Hawke's voice dripped with sarcasm and blatant annoyance at the guard's presence. Hawke did care for Avelline, she truly did, but the fact that she had her watched and was always consumed with her honor made the guard quite hard to have a close companionship.

Avelline shot Hawke a small glare. "Nothing this time Hawke," that was a surprise, so Avelline didn't know about the recent job she did for Athenril. "I need your help." That was less of a surprise.

"And what could the guard captain want with a lowly apostate?" Hawke questioned, a small smirk playing her lips. She was enjoying this immensely, as was Isabella. Both of them wanted to see Avelline taken off her high perch.

"Don't give me that look Hawke," Avelline chastised, pointing a gauntleted finger at her. "Someone was trespassing in the Dupuis mansion; she was squatting on the roof." Isabella let out a choked laughter. "That's not the part that concerns you. When the guards arrived, she was asleep so they bound her hands and splashed cold water on her face. Afterwards, she somehow disarmed the nearest guard and cut herself free before knocking all three unconscious."

Varric snorted, "Sounds like your guards need some more training." Avelline shot him a look that could boil water, but Varric just grinned in reply.

"That's still not the biggest problem." Now Hawke was paying some more attention. "One and half dozen guards were sent up to the roof afterwards, with three more down at the entrance. When the men arrived up top, she was holding two glowing red swords and was one step away from the roof."

Now Isabella snorted, "Magical swords? Are you serious Avelline? Were your guards drunk or are they really just that dim witted?" Avelline dutifully ignored her, carrying on.

"The guards told her to stand down, and instead she decided it be a wonderful idea to jump off the roof."

Hawke was now confused. So some squatter had just committed suicide? Why did that require her help? "I still don't see the problem, Avelline." Hawke told the captain.

"That's the thing Hawke," Avelline said, as if reading her mind. Avelline paused before finishing, "She lived." Hawke felt her jaw drop and eyes widen, she also noticed the similar looks on Varric and Isabella. And the smug look on Avelline's face as she continued, "When she hit the ground, she released some sort of shockwave sending the nearby guardsman flying and she even _cracked_ the street. Now do you see why I need your help?"

Hawke nodded numbly, still somewhat shocked by what she heard. Was it some sort of abomination on the roof? An extremely powerful mage? Both? Hawke stood, gaining her composure. "Varric," she said in a quiet, yet strong voice.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world Hawke," he replied, knowing the unasked question. Hawke already knew the answer, but was relieved none the less. "And I doubt Avelline's just going to dump this on you without helping herself." Avelline nodded in response

"If that woman is going," Isabella started, and Hawke sighed knowing exactly where this was going, "than you can count me out." Hawke knew that one day she'd have to get those two in line and stop their feud, but right now she had more pressing matters.

"Where is she Avelline?" Hawke asked, standing up and preparing herself for what seemed like another life and death situation.

"Darktwon Hawke," was Avelline's reply.

"Is it me," started Varric sarcastically, "Or does every criminal decide that Darktown is just the perfect place to hide out in?"

Sighing, Hawke could only agree with the statement.


End file.
